


Notte insonne | Lullaby for the Tormented

by soy_latte



Series: Notte insonne [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 22:16:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18352793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soy_latte/pseuds/soy_latte
Summary: Tenzō took a breath and sank deeper into the mattress. It was one of these nights.





	Notte insonne | Lullaby for the Tormented

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goodnightophelia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnightophelia/gifts).



> Happy birthday dear~ ♥  
> Cover by @goodnightophelia

Raindrops knocked against the window. Only a murmur in the middle of a dark and gloomy night.

A muffled whimper. A ruffle of sheets.

Tenzō felt the body next to him warming. He didn’t open his eyes yet, waiting.

A jolt of surprise. The sound of jerky breathing. The raindrops again.

Then, a deep sigh. Followed by a finally evened breathing.

Tenzō opened his eyes, waiting. Deep sleep hadn’t reached him yet. He felt Kakashi move behind his back and leave the bed. Without any movement, he watched the wobbly shadow head towards the bathroom. Tenzō took a breath and sank deeper into the mattress. It was one of these nights. _Are you alright?_

The shower started to run and Tenzō started to count the clouds’ heavy raindrops every time they hit the window. He probably missed a few of them. A lot, actually.

The water stopped running and Tenzō stopped counting. Waiting for Kakashi to come back. If he ever would. _Will you?_

Tenzō looked up at the ceiling, listening to the tune the raindrops actually played.

Kakashi slipped back into bed, not bothering being delicate, knowing full well Tenzō wasn’t sleeping. The latter didn’t move, but he smirked when he registered the smell. Citrus and green tea. He used his soap. _Comfort..._

He heard Kakashi rub his palms against his face, sighing into them before rolling on his side to face Tenzō’s back. He left his hand hover on his lover’s back, his fingertips caressing it.

“Sorry for waking you,” he finally said, his voice rough, and barely audible.

Tenzō answered back in a similar tone, almost aerial, “It’s fine.”

He meant it. And he hoped, trusted Kakashi, even, to know he did.

They stayed in that same position for a while, Kakashi stroking Tenzō’s back, looking at it absentmindedly. Tenzō waited. It was soothing, and he knew the gesture felt the same to Kakashi.

After a while, Kakashi stopped caressing Tenzō’s back and shifted closer to him. The younger let him do as he pleased, allowing him to press his still wet chest onto his back.

Kakashi’s arms made their way under Tenzōu’s to embrace him from behind. He held him tight, as if trying to suppress any kind of distance between them. His hands clasped on Tenzō’s shirt and he pulled. He pulled him closer and closer.

He let one leg push in between the brunette’s so he could entangle them. Tenzō contained a laugh. He remembered joking about Kakashi’s new ability in wood release once, as his habit to intertwine his members around Tenzō to hold him.

When settled, Kakashi released a sigh on Tenzō’s nape. His lover recently cut his hair, and as much as he missed his long locks, he could now feel his skin as soon as he let his face rest on him. He enjoyed that.

Said lover finally moved to hold onto Kakashi’s forearm, gently squeezing his skin.

Kakashi pecked him in response. He left feather kisses along Tenzō’s nape and visible shoulder. The latter closed his eyes and let his lover indulge. For obvious reasons, he’d rather see Kakashi cope with grim nights this way than see him leave the house to take long walks to whoever knows, leaving him alone, unsure of what he should or should not do.

Tenzō didn’t know if this, was the best remedy to nightmares and various phobias happening at night. But it stabilized them. And somehow, it felt fine. They were trying.

“Tenzō…”

Barely a whisper. Tenzō opened his eyes but didn’t respond. Kakashi wasn’t talking for him to respond.

“Tenzō…”, Kakashi repeated like a silent mantra to himself.

Tenzō started stroking Kakashi’s arm in reply. The older man tightening his embrace.

This was it. This was what he needed at that moment. To know someone was here for him. To hold and be held. It was comforting, and this is what they, former children soldiers, orphans, loners, had lost.

He needed him. As much as Tenzō needed him.

Kakashi rubbed his face against Tenzō’s shoulders, his nape, his blades. Left, right. Up, and down. Until he started to nibble on Tenzō’s skin. Tenzō hardly reacted. It didn’t hurt at all. It wasn’t made to hurt. As feral as it seemed, it was actually a way for Kakashi to make sure Tenzō was here. Because what are our senses, if not subjective?

His vision could betray him. Maybe his left eye would make him believe Tenzō was here next to him, for eternity. When he would have been long gone already.

His scent could betray him. Maybe he could smell his lover because of the scents he left before leaving. Scents linger, as long as you remember them.

His hearing could betray him. Tenzō’s voice might only be a siren call, a voice in his head.

His touch could lie to him. Wouldn’t Tenzō be able to create an eternal clone for him?

His taste though… What could be more honest, genuine in existence, than flesh and blood? If he could feel Tenzō’s skin under his lips, under his tongue, then Tenzō would be here. Living.

When Kakashi delicately presses his teeth on Tenzō’s body, his skin reacts. It turns pink, then reddens. Blood reacts. Life reacts. It doesn’t lie.

And Tenzō did react. After letting his neck and nape being nibbled on, he tried to turn around only to give up as Kakashi fastened his hold on him. Not yet.

Tenzō sighed and let a tender smile spring on his face. They were both too coy, too green and young at heart. Puerile, innocent reactions, for they never learned how to express themselves. For they never had been taught about what loving and being loved meant.

There is something endearing to their reactions. Them, late ten and twenty-somethings, trying to figure out how to love and how to care for each other. By instinct? Probably. But what if they lack something, what if they forgot to do something? What if they miss a chance to say something?

Kakashi buried his face between Tenzō’s shoulder blades, breathing into his shirt. Feral, but adorable, in Tenzō’s eyes. He let his fingertips lull his lover, hoping that it would soothe him and drive him back to sleep.

A gale made the rain hit the window with a heavy noise so Tenzō barely caught what Kakashi said, mouth still pressed again his back.

“I’m sorry? I can’t hear you from down there.”

Kakashi propped himself up just enough for his head to find the right place in the crook of Tenzō’s neck.

He pursued after a moment, “I said that I won’t fail you, Tenzō. At least I hope so.”

Tenzō stopped stroking his arm and took a moment to register the words.

“Fail me?”

Kakashi didn’t answer and rolled onto his back again, his hands leaving Tenzō to rub his eyes. Tenzō followed suit only a few seconds later to face him. He looked at Kakashi, not pressing him for an answer. He had his idea about what the older man was referring too.

He put his hand above Kakashi’s and made a quick note about how pretty their hands looked under that night light. They were blood-stained, but oh how pretty were they.

“Another one?”, he asked tentatively.

Kakashi sighed and removed his hands from his face to cover Tenzō’s and stroke it. Every pressure against his hand was a way for Kakashi to make sure Tenzō was here, to thank him, perhaps. But it also sent Tenzō the message that he, too, was here for him.

Tenzō let him do so, immobile, waiting for his beloved to recover. He knew how unkind and brutal these nights could be. He knew, for having rough nights as well. Nightmares were unforgiving. Tenzō’s dreams made him suffocate, as he was often drowning in water. He would pant, call for help, and if he was lucky, Kakashi would be by his side, trying to wake him up so he wouldn’t agonize. His lungs would feel all torn up, his chest would ache, and Kakashi would have to wipe his tears and hold him all night. So he wouldn’t drown again.

Kakashi had different ways to cope. Sometimes he wouldn’t talk at all. He would leave the house, come back or not, he would take a shower, lay down and stare at the ceiling, or cling onto Tenzō, without any words exchanged.

He removed their hands from his face but kept in on his bare chest, holding Tenzō’s hand in both his. He turned his head to face his lover. If he opened his left eye, perhaps he would be able to catch the raindrops’ reflection in his eyes. They were so large, _I bet I could see the whole world in them_.

“What would I do if something happened to you,” he asked quietly.

It was quite a rhetorical question, as Tenzō didn’t have the answer, and neither did Kakashi.

Tenzō smiled and came closer, allowing himself to press a light peck on Kakashi’s shoulder. Tiny drops of water that didn’t have the time to dry on Kakashi’s skin shimmered. It was amazing, Tenzō thought, how everything around Kakashi was white, grey or gleaming. Was he the only one able, allowed even, to witness it? _Am I, Kakashi?_

“I could return you the question,” he smiled.

Tenzō’s voice was small, almost silent, but not fragile. For a second Kakashi wished he could caress this pristine voice. Instead, he turned on his side to face the apple of his eyes. He opened his mouth to respond, only to jolt of surprise as a clap of thunder banged.

Tenzō couldn’t hold his laughter and welcomed Kakashi in his arms.

“Hatake Kakashi, scared of the storm? Who would have thought?”

“I’m not,” he muffled back. “It startled me.”

He entangled their limbs again and nestled against Tenzō who embraced him as tight as he could. Kakashi squeezed him back and Tenzō noticed he was trembling, surely from the strength he put in the embrace.

“I’m not leaving, Kakashi...”

And this was how he finally broke down. Hidden in his lover’s arms, hidden from the world, he let go. Although that night wasn’t the first time he saw Kakashi shed tears, it still startled him every time. Naturally, it hadn’t happened often since their first meeting. It was occasional, sporadic. The senior he admired, the unprecedented shinobi Kakashi, happened to have a few weaknesses. And he allowed Tenzō to see them at night.

The moment Kakashi let Tenzō into his life entirely, he chose to face his curse. Because Tenzō gave him the heart and will to do so. Him, reborn with nothing, had everything to offer him. Was willing, to give him everything. And so he held onto this everything.

Be as it may, traumas and insecurities have thick skin.

“I never will,” Tenzō added after a while.

He felt Kakashi loosen up, and sobs quieted down before ceasing.

This was already too much of a reveal for Kakashi to talk any more. Tenzō knew this, and he didn’t care much. Rather, as an answer, he caressed Tenzō’s back again. Breathing into his shirt. They would fall asleep like this, or they would stay awake entangled until the break of dawn. None of this mattered now.

Tenzō returned to watch the heavy rain pour outside, raindrops still tracing long irregular lines against the glass. It wouldn’t last long, though. It was Konoha. Stormy nights never lasted.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! I'm trying to improve my writing, so I hope it's fine...  
> It was actually written as a birthday gift for my friend Pauline.  
> This is how we celebrate, with kkyam gifts lol (좋아하길바래 ㅜㅜ)  
> There's another angst/hurt/comfort wip incoming btw haha.


End file.
